


SuperM Things

by mochilix



Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Light Johnten, M/M, bbh is whipped and so is ty, im confused myself, kai is very much in love, light angst sometimes, mark torn between kai and yuta, mentioned yumark, yumark drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26375554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochilix/pseuds/mochilix
Summary: baekhyun and taeyong complete each other and are happily together and maybe with their own ups and downs. but on the other hand, mark had two men running after him and he had no idea how to work his feelings out.note : the story gets better trust me :")) [it's just that at first this was meant to be a oneshot, but then i was drawn in by baekyong and thus, I'll probably add a decent storyline <3]
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Lee Taeyong, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Kim Jongin | Kai/Mark Lee (NCT), Lee Taemin/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Lee Taemin/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 12
Kudos: 86





	1. rose, scent, kiss

**Author's Note:**

> inspired be daewhi’s rose, scent, kiss but it’s kaimark where jongin makes a mistake of mark being 20 and comes at him with a rose and a very consensual kiss. also let’s not forget baekyong :D
> 
> (tbh idk where im going with this ;;;)

_ 1 August, 2020  _

_ 4:56 pm  _

Jongin paced around the cramped room of their dorms, biting his nails every other second. It was Mark’s birthday tomorrow and he was barely ready with anything. Like obviously Mark didn’t ask for anything, but as a good hyung he wanted to do something. Also considering how overly attached he was to Mark, it came naturally. But somehow when thinking of what to give his adorable dongsaeng, Jongin came up with absolutely nothing. It would’ve been easier if the birthday was of someone more within his friendly terms, like Baekhyun or Chanyeol or even Sehun, and obviously Taemin. But when it came to Mark, it wasn’t the same. Not to add Mark’s younger, and also let’s just forget the part where Jongin may or may not have developed a crush over him. Mark was so much like Kyungsoo and also not like him in so many ways. It just added to his charm. He was effortlessly beautiful. Jongin sighed. 

Jongin didn’t remember if Mark was going to be 20 or 21 but he went with the former. Mark looked younger anyways, with the baby face and all. Obviously he’d follow the custom of rose, perfume and a kiss–he was still thinking over it–but he couldn’t fathom what else to give to the younger.  _ What did Mark like?  _

It was a few months that they teamed up in Superm, and with excessive schedules and way too many instagram lives, Jongin didn’t really have the free time to ask Mark about what he liked. He was ashamed, of course. All he did was be handsy with the younger, and touch him every chance he got–as subtle as he could. Mark seemed to catch up though, yet he dismissed them as casual touches from his hyung. Jongin didn’t mind at all, it only gave him more openings to touch him without a reason. 

Jongin sprawled over on the bed. He could only think of two things apart from what Mark would like, and things that Mark would definitely like. Jongin went out the evening lying about hanging out with Taemin who played along, remembering they never had any plans of going out in the first place. As soon as they were thirty centimetres away from their place, Jongin was all over Taemin. 

“Help me out.” Jongin almost cried, Taemin raised a brow. 

“You seem desperate,” He stated.

“I  _ am _ desperate,” Jongin glared. “Like do you know what Mark likes?” 

Taemin seemed to get the idea. He chuckled. “About the birthday,” He laughed. “Why don't you figure it out?”

“You’re telling me I dragged you out wasting my precious time to hear you say that bullshit?” Jongin slapped a light punch on Taemin’s chest. The latter laughed again. 

“Well, I don’t know much either. Just that he likes chicken, like you.” They were at the subway, it remained empty during this time of the day. 

“I’ll just give him chicken and then happy birthday Mark?” Jongin gaped at him. “What kind of a shit birthday plan is that?” 

“Excuse me,  _ you _ did the same thing to me.” Taemin growled, leaning against the walls of the subway. Jongin made a face. “You and him. You’re not the same.”

Taemin narrowed his eyes. “You love him more than me?” 

Jongin spluttered our something incoherent along the lines of  _ what the fuck _ , but composed himself shortly. “You’re my best friend, Min.” Taemin didn’t look satisfied in the least. “Oh? Then what is he?”

“Uuuh….not my best friend?” Jongin laughed nervously. “I mean I don’t see him as a best friend. At all.” 

Taemin moves closer. “That’s what I’m asking. What is he?”

Jongin snapped his fingers, the cracking sounds louder in the empty subway. “Uhhh….my dongsaeng.” Obviously Taemin didn’t buy it. 

“That’s all he is?”

“ _ That’s all he is _ .” Jongin repeated, not meeting his eyes. 

“Then buying him chicken isn’t a bad option at all,” Taemin offered, a sly grin playing at his lips. Jongin was great on stage, but when it came to lying, he sucked like a five year old. 

“O-okay. Chicken it is then.” 

* * *

_ 6:31 pm _

Mark was out, recording his solo teaser for the single. The others were planning on a surprise, with Taeyong making the cake, and Baekhyun putting up the handmade strings of stars. Yukhei helped him in reaching the top, the duo giggling with blushed faces whenever Baekhyun wobbled on the chair and fell all over Yukhei. Taeyong rolled his eyes, they were insufferable. It irked him, how close they were. Ten and Taemin helped Taeyong, doing small tasks like stirring the batter, and handing him the sugar–because Taeyong didn’t really trust them in doing the actual thing. 

Jongin went up to the roof, saying he had an important call, and he wasn’t back until it was around 8:00. The cake was almost over, with Taeyong waiting another two minutes to take it out of the oven. 

“Who did you call?” Baekhyun piped up from the corner, exhausted from all the standing up, slumped against Yukhei’s tall frame. Taeyong looked away from them. 

“No one important.” Jongin informed, Baekhyun didn’t question his lie. 

* * *

_11:45 pm_

Mark would be back any minute, and the others were all crammed up in the small living room closet, and no one really knew whose legs they were pressing on anymore. 

The lock turned with the click, and Jongin’s watch read 11:57. “ _He’s here_.” Ten whispered, and was shushed by Taemin the next second. The footsteps became prominent as it came closer, and then it stopped. They remembered to turn the lights off and from what Baekhyun could make out from the small opening of the closet, Mark–his silhouette to be precise, was standing still, the bathroom light reflecting on his glasses. 

_ 11:58 _ Taeyong breathed.

_ 11:59 _

“Guys?” Mark gave a shaky call, his voice returned, echoing on the walls.

_ 2 August  _

_ 12:00 am  _

The six guys burst out of the closet, with Baekhyun making an obnoxious noise, Ten, Yukhei and Taeyong following his lead, and Taemin and Jongin resorted to clapping as hard as they could screaming  _ happy birthday _ , probably waking the neighbours. 

Taeyong lit up the candles, the cake nicely coming up on the table. Mark stood where he was, wits blown with surprise, Taeyong whispered something like ,“He’s silent screaming.” 

“You-you d-did no-not oh my god you actually are y’all for real oh my god—” He spluttered some more syllables, and the others laughed. Jongin suddenly tapped on the wall, turning all the heads towards him. Taemin has a questioning look, mirroring the other five. 

“I have a surprise.” Jongin muttered, with fleeting eyes and blushed ears. 

“This  _ is _ a surprise Jongin,” Baekhyun corrected. Jongin blushed more. “Y-yeah, _I_ have more.” Baekhyun mouthed something like  _ you cheater,  _ and spared a glance at Mark. Oh shit, Baekhyun laughed in his head. If Jongin was blushing, Mark was red, like the bright red hair that Junmyeon had during obsession era. 

Jongin tapped three times on the door, they heard a shuffle and then the door literally exploded, with seventeen heads popping through, stumbling through the small walkway and on the floor. Following them were much taller guys, Mark counted, three way too familiar guys. 

“ _Holy shit_.” That’s all Mark could utter, and Jongin giggled. Taeyong, Ten and Yukhei were opening and closing their mouths like blobs and honestly none blamed them. Baekhyun grinned, ear to ear, and shifted his eyes to Jongin. He was literally sparkling. 

It was almost impossible for them to leave the dorms during their schedules just around the corner and Superm promotions still on the line. But Jongin, Kim _fucking_ Jongin, like a madman, had called up NCT and there they were, all huddled up in the living room. The three—Chanyeol, Jongdae and Sehun were also there, smiling like crazy. Honestly, Baekhyun had no idea how he managed that. 

It was Yuta who spoke first. “Jongin hyung called us,” He was bubbling with excitement as he spoke. “At first we thought we’d celebrate your birthday when you’ll come back. We know it’s hard for you so Youngho hyung asked to stay put.” He giggled. “But then Jongin hyung called and we had to come. He’s awesome, for real.” 

The many eyes turned to stare at the man in question and he only cowered. “Stop staring, god!” He cried in embarrassment. The others laughed, Chanyeol wrapping a big arm around his relatively lean frame. 

“ _ You did this _ .” Mark muttered, still frozen in his place. Jongin trotted shyly to stand behind him, and nodded. “ _ I wanted to see you smile, Minhyung. _ ” He whispered, only for the younger to hear. Mark blushed, knuckles hard around his phone. 

“Make a wish.” The whole room chanted, all quite sure the neighbours would report a case of violating the noise rules the next day. Mark bit his lips, Haechan teasing how little Mark was crying and Mark didn’t even put up an effort to deny. 

Taemin made his way closer to Jongin and flicked his neck. “You’re crazy, like you’re _so_ crazy Kim Jongin.” Jongin laughed silently, shrugging. 

“We share a room.” Taemin started again. His voice inaudible in the loud room. Jongin raised an eyebrow. “That’s matters now, how?” 

Taemin patted his head. “Well, I still hold the title of your best bud. And since I’m so generous and very understanding,” Jongin rolled his eyes. “I’d room with Baekhyun and ask Mark to come to your room. How about that? Seems like a best friend thing to do?” 

Jongin choked on his spit, muffling his fits of dry cough. Jongin halted on his thoughts. Him,  _ alone _ in the room with Mark. A very tempting idea. 

“I’d owe you my life.” Jongin promised, a grin playing at his lips. 

“Yes all fair, but you know what they say,  _ consent _ .” Taemin reminded, earning a glare from Jongin. “I know. I wouldn’t do anything Minhyung finds even slightly disturbing.” Taemin gagged at how fondly Jongin uttered his name. 

* * *

After a thousand hits and trials, they finally decided how to room up at night. There were a lot of people, and only four rooms with a large living room. Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Taemin with Taeyong, Jaehyun and Youngho. Wayv in one room, Dream in another and the others (Taeil, Yuta, Doyoung, Jungwoo, including Jongdae and Sehun shared the living room). It only left another room, and Taemin kinda requested others to leave it for Jongin and Mark. The others agreed of course. 

Mark believed that he would be rooming with Dream, but he was extra surprised when, after all the party, Jongin was dragging him by his wrist to an empty room. Jongin quietly closed the door and turned to a very confused Mark. 

Jongin flushed, his previous embarrassment coming back thrice the force before. He stuttered with his Korean. “Uhhh...well, Minhyung...ok no sorry, Mark—” 

Mark stopped him. “Minhyung is okay, hyung.” Jongin could feel Mark’s own nervousness and that acted as his personal consolation and maybe an ego booster. Not much though. “O-okay.” Jongin breathed. “S-so Minhyung, how’re you? Shit sorry no. I mean...how did you like everything?” Jongin mentally noted to kill himself later. Mark giggled, low pitched. “Well, hyung. I would’ve loved anything you do. But whatever you did today, you are a man after my hea—” Jongin never snapped his neck so hard. But what was death even when Mark was saying questionable things that might be remotely similar to his? 

“Your _what_?” Jongin pressed, chewing the inside of his cheeks. 

“Never mind, uhm...so….you were saying something.” Mark flushed. Jongin cleared his throat, trying to recall the speech he wrote last night. He came up with a blank head, with just one word—Mark. “Uuuh...well, I brought a rose,” Jongin managed out a half wilted red rose from his jeans pocket–he wasn’t really a delicate man–and grinned awkwardly. “I don’t know which perfume you use, since I never saw you using any, and for the kiss…” Jongin trailed off, looking away. 

Mark stuttered, having trouble breathing. “Hyung, wh-why?” 

Jongin smiled. “It’s your twentieth birthday isn’t it?” 

“No? I’m 21 today.” Mark laughed, embarrassed. 

Jongin mirrored Mark’s embarrassed state, only a million times more. “I fucked up.” Mark giggled, nodding shyly. Jongin continued, “I thought you’re finally twenty, and I’ll do the rose, perfume and uuuh….k-kiss you…” 

Mark blushed harder, the hue creeping up his neck and down under his shirt. Kim Jongin was seriously fucking crazy. 

“I’m twenty one, I guess.” Mark said, Jongin agreed with an embarrassed nod. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want a rose, with a kiss.” Jongin was snapping his neck again, this time he probably really cracked it, but again, did he care. 

“ _ Minhyung… _ ” He whispered softly. 

“Yeah, I just said it.” Mark moved closer. “Fuck it. Kiss me, okay?” Jongin moved across the room as well, and they were millimetres apart. Jongin didn’t remember who leaned in first, probably him, but he couldn’t be too sure since their lips met midway. Mark’s lips were just the right amount of soft and even sweeter than Baekhyun’s voice in candy. Jongin always viewed Mark to be the pure, innocent, little boy who’s way too pure for the world, and when he thought of this very moment–how he had Mark’s body pressed on his, their lips sloppily leaving open mouthed kisses over each other, it evoked a strange sense of satisfaction in Jongin. It was like he was tainting him, but the world didn’t know that. 

Jongin moved to his neck, sucking on an exposed part of beautiful skin, Mark making his hardest efforts to muffle down his moans. Jongin loved it. He sucked harder, an almost invisible bruise starting to appear on his pale skin. Forget the world, at least the people who knew Mark would know, he belonged to someone. He did want Mark to belong to him, but not without the younger’s consent. Jongin’s love towards Mark was far more than just a belonging-possessive relationship. Jongin wanted to love Mark with his all, just like how Mark wrote his songs, just like Jongin danced. He loved Minhyung with his all. 

Mark moaned low in his mouth, when Jongin pressed his thighs against his pants. Mark was hard. Jongin felt dizzy from the extra adrenaline flowing throughout his system, and he almost wobbled on his steps. He managed to get to the bed, and pushed the younger boy down, straddling him. Jongin brushed away a stray strand from his face, and kissed down his forehead. His eyes, his nose, his cheeks–Mark was a giggling mess–but not quite his lips. Mark’s lips were swollen from the rough kisses, and Jongin was pretty sure his was too. Mark gazed at him through half lidded eyes, pushing himself up, chasing his lips again. Jongin pressed down on him, not allowing to kiss anymore. 

“Hyung…” Mark whimpered softly, which in turn only encouraged Jongin to carry on with his tactics. 

“Get on top, can you do that Minhyung?” Jongin asked sweetly, Mark nodded, doing just what his beloved Jongin hyung asked him to do. He was hovering over the six foot tall man now, the addressed shamelessly staring at him, like he was stripping Mark naked with just his eyes. Mark shivered. 

“Good boy.” Jongin smiled, caressing his cheek, Mark leaning in to the touch. “Now, take it off for hyung. Please,” Jongin asked, and Mark obliged. It felt oddly satisfying to be praised, and though Mark would never admit, but he might have a hidden kink somewhere around. With every cloth falling off from his body, Mark felt even more self conscious, and at one point he lifted his arms to cover his chest, looking away. 

Jongin leaned up and pressed a light kiss on his fingers. “Let hyung love you,” Jongin kissed his neck. “Won’t you, Minhyung?” 

Mark groaned. “That’s cheating hyung,” He complained, shutting his eyes close. Jongin laughed in his low baritone. “Everything’s fair in love and war Minhyung.” Mark peeked through half open eyes, mumbling out something along “which one is this?” and Jongin, being the shameless one here, answered with, “Love obviously. I love you.” 

Mark burst up in flames. Jongin laughed again, then propped up on his elbows and kissed along his sides. Mark made small sounds of approval, and Jongin only showered him with love. Then they were falling back again, with Mark on top, and straddling the taller. Jongin placed his hands on Mark’s thighs, squeezing them occasionally to get a whine out of him. 

“What do you want, baby?” Though Jongin cringed at himself for saying such a cheesy line straight out of some poorly executed porn, Mark seemed to like it, and did a cute growl in response. If there was something Mark would be good at except being good at everything, it would definitely be stirring up Kim Jongin, the Kai that everyone loved. Well, Mark did too. Love him, that is. 

“Hyung can kiss me forever and I’d still ask you to kiss me again,” Mark whispered, half muffled as he had buried his face in Jongin’s neck, the sentence apparently too embarrassing for him. 

“Aww, Minhyung likes kissing? Mmn?” Jongin threaded his fingers through Mark’s blonde locks. Mark nodded in response. “Then I’ll kiss you till morning.” 

“My lips are going to be swollen. They’re going to notice.” Mark complained, purring lightly against Jongin’s chest. “I’ll blame you.” Jongin’s laugh vibrated through Mark’s cheeks, he was kinda ticklish there. “Go ahead, I’ll kiss you anyways.” 

Their previous lust driven actions seemed to have subdued as Jongin peppered a quick kiss on Mark’s collarbone. Mark giggled, all awkward and blushing, somehow this sweet action much more embarrassing than what they were doing. 

“Thanks, hyung.” Mark muttered, snuggling close to Jongin, their warmth seeping through naked skin. 

“Mmn?” Jongin let his chin rest over Mark’s head, sometimes leaving a kiss on his locks. 

“You’re amazing.” 

Jongin scoffed. “Look who’s talking.” 

“No, like for real,” Mark said. “You don’t even know like you’re _so_ amazing hyung.” 

“Aaiish Minhyung, enough,” Jongin closed his eyes, shyly. “You’re amazing enough, I’m just one third of the whole amazingness that you are.” Jongin cringed at himself for always coming up with the worst lines. Well, Sehun was growing on him these days. 

Mark laughed. “That was weird. But it’s okay I guess.” 

Jongin nodded. 

“Let’s sleep?” 

“Mmhmn.” 


	2. taeyong's crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone knew about taeyong's small crush on his hyung–byun baekhyun. well, baekhyun did too.

Lately, Baekhyun started noticing things. Like when Jongin shifted closer to Mark, maybe unintentionally but it was noticeable. The others might've noticed as well, they just didn't want to break it to them. Like this morning. Baekhyun woke up to convenience store milk and that was it, but Mark had breakfast in bed, with Jongin serving, that is. Not that he had anything against them, on the contrary he was glad they were getting closer. The only thing that irked him was that Taeyong helped Jongin to pamper his  _ boyfriend _ –well, maybe not yet, but a man can assume. 

“Y’all be weird these days,” Baekhyun informed after slapping–unsurprisingly–Jongin’s butt. Jongin made a face, not sparing him a glance. “You know, he’s cute. Like reallyyy cute,” Jongin started. “Unlike someone.” Baekhyun slapped again, this time with a bonus squeeze. Jongin ignored, and made his way to his usual spot—used to be the couch, but now it happened to be Mark’s thighs. Not that Mark had anything against it. 

Taeyong, from the other side of the room, sneaked a glance at the main vocalist. Baekhyun obviously knew about Taeyong’s little crush over him, he enjoyed it to be honest. He found it rather endearing how Taeyong cowered under his touch, or how easily he blushed when he directed a smile exclusively for him, or that one time when things played out like a cliché movie scene–where they both turned around at the same time and he was facing Taeyong. Baekhyun didn’t miss how the latter gazed at his lips longer than needed and then breezed out an awkward laugh. Typical Taeyong. 

But lately things were indeed getting out of hand. Baekhyun noticed in the mirror how Taeyong–instead of focusing on his moves–had his eyes fixated on how Baekhyun moved. Baekhyun chewed the inside of his cheeks. _Was it really okay? To let this go on?_

“Hyung can I sleep here?” Was something Baekhyun was used to by now. The nights when Taeyong found it hard to fall asleep, he looked for Baekhyun because for some weird reason he helped him sleep better. Baekhyun didn’t deny him. Sometimes, a kiss on his forehead to soothe his nightmares. 

After the recording of their “Super One” album, they had to go back. Baekhyun and Jongin to their own rooms, with the other EXO members and Taeyong, Mark, Lucas and Ten to NCT. 

“Don’t go hyung.” Taeyong had clung to him, Baekhyun trying to calm him saying that they were going to meet again. Taeyong whined, embarrassment was not a concern when Baekhyun was going away from him. Taeyong really wanted to go back to his dorms, but surprisingly, he wanted Baekhyun to come along. 

It was just another endearing hyung-dongsaeng relationship in the k-industry. Nothing new. Things became harder when Taeyong started catching feelings.  _ Brotherly infatuation. _ Then came the stage where Taeyong started showering Baekhyun with his unconditional and obviously noticeable affection, which most of them discarded as their aforementioned brotherly infatuation. 

But then Taeyong fell in love.

Taeyong fell in love as easily as the sun fell in love with the snow. His desire towards the other man came like taking a sip of his morning coffee, so strong that the caffeine makes his head spin. It was so easy, so natural that he didn’t even notice till it got stronger. Taeyong loved how Baekhyun was himself, how he didn’t care what the world thought of him, he did what he wanted. Taeyong loved him. 

“Can a man love a man?” Taeyong asked Youngho one night, contradicting his education. 

Youngho smiled like a wise prophet, pulling him into a much needed hug. “When a man can love a woman, why can’t it be a man? Love is beautiful, Yong.” 

Taeyong was glad he had that courage to question his education. It was scary, accepting his feelings. But letting go of Baekhyun was a much scarier thought. 

Taeyong felt ecstatic when Baekhyun played right into it, offering Taeyong what he wanted, but not quite. Baekhyun obliged when Taeyong needed a hug, Baekhyun touched him when Taeyong allowed, but Taeyong wanted him to kiss. Baekhyun interpreted it as a simple request from his dongsaeng and kissed him on the forehead, smiling afterwards. Taeyong was appalled at himself, for the first time. He was a man, and he wanted another man, also his hyung, to kiss him. Taeyong was okay with Ten being bisexual. But when it came to  _ him _ , longing for a kiss from a man, even being one himself, he was at a dead end–encased in his self pity. But, with Baekhyun, the older never gave him time to think, he was all over him, and surprisingly the vocalist kissing him then didn’t seem so much of an appalling act. 

Taeyong was glad he asked Youngho.

“Baekhyun hyung teaches me to sing.” Taeyong said. Youngho grinned, ruffling his soft locks. _And he taught him to love._ _Himself_ , others. Taeyong had his fair share of incidents of people telling him that he wasn’t enough, that his flaws clouded him. Baekhyun had seen him crying more than once. But he didn’t ask, and Taeyong didn’t say. It was when Baekhyun had visited him during one of his recordings. Baekhyun let him cry on his shirt, and Taeyong didn’t pull away. Baekhyun didn’t let him either. 

Yukhei liked to play around, saying things like  _ Baekhyun hyung is cute  _ and Baekhyun didn’t mind at all, on the contrary, laughed along Yukhei. Taeyong wished he could do it like Yukhei, shower his hyung with countless praises and get away with just an embarrassed laugh. 

* * *

During their interviews, Baekhyun was extra brave. “Taeyong is so perfect.” The cameras didn’t record Baekhyun’s next words, rolling off his tongue in silent whispers. “ _ And your imperfections, I love them too _ .” Tasting brushed it off through his usual stunts of being awkward, but he knew better. And nor did he miss the way Baekhyun’s lips curled up in a fading smile. 

It ought to pass away, just like Taeyong’s occasional crushes. Starting from Ten, Doyoung, Lucas, and Jaehyun too, he ended up never telling him. But they were friends and of course they knew. They knew him long enough to know that Taeyong didn’t like being pushed to a corner. It faded away then, his feelings. 

But Baekhyun didn’t fit his definitions. Baekhyun struggled between two sides—what he wanted and what others wanted. Obviously he knew his priorities but everyone had fears. Maybe Baekhyun wanted to kiss him too, Taeyong can never know. But Baekhyun was scared. Maybe. _Was Baekhyun ever scared?_

Some days, Taeyong would stroke his own lips, his own sharp cheeks, thread his sinful fingertips along his scalp, sometimes running his fingernails roughly over his pale body. Because his head couldn’t contain it, his desire sometimes overflowed whenever their bodies touched and Taeyong wanted that same lithe body of Byun Baekhyun to hold him and maul him the same way he laughed. 

“Wanna head out?” Jaehyun offered after a couple of weeks of his Superm promotions. Walking along the streets aimlessly with Jaehyun was something Taeyong always looked forward to. They didn’t talk much, but walking alongside resolved most of his fears and his open ended questions. 

Taeyong’s sleepless nights game back in full force in the absence of Baekhyun. He wished to be Baekhyun’s pillow, that way he could steal kisses whenever he pleased, and stare at his existence for hours without others questioning him. It was foolish really, how he yearned for those puckered lips to press against his in a soft whisper of love. Taeyong desired his sweetness, desired Baekhyun to kiss it into him, and he would accept every drop with open lips sucking up his love. 

“Taeyong is always attracted to me.” Baekhyun had jokingly stated in one of his livestreams. Taeyong’s foolish heart missed a beat, because he knew the truth behind those words, but dare he not speak them aloud. Him being a part of Superm only permitted him to occasionally touch Baekhyun as his dongsaeng, not smother him with loving kisses. Baekhyun saw it, how Taeyong laughed at his jokes even when they got lame, and it amused him how he laughed even when he sneezed. Baekhyun liked to tease him, intentionally push his buttons, and also observing himself, how far he can go before it got uncomfortable. It never did, but Baekhyun didn’t go beyond his hyung-like touch. 

“I’m here.” Youngho interrupted his isolation session one of the evenings, all serious and understanding. Taeyong felt vulnerable opening up his heart, but it was Youngho. Obviously Taeyong didn’t vomit out his feelings just like that, but Youngho let him hug for hours. He kinda believed that the Taeyong hugged to think. He needed some kind of body warmth to sort out his thoughts and Youngho was his not so obvious option. 

“Talk to Minhyung,” Youngho suggested. “He probably would know what’s going on better than me.” Taeyong modded, since Mark had been with him in Superm he might understand the situation he was in. 

He confronted Mark one of these days, with the same question. “What do you think of homosexuality, Minhyung?” Taeyong tested his waters, touching the subject with fine hands. Mark remained silent, his expressions settled in a montone glance. “What if  _ I _ love a man?” Mark stiffened for a moment and Taeyong dreaded adding the last words. It didn’t last long though, Mark seemed to have come out of his state and turned to face him. 

“I won’t say it doesn’t matter, hyung.” Mark eked out softly. Taeyong held his breath. “Of course it does. In our industry, it fucking does.” Taeyong felt a lump in his chest. “But that doesn’t stop you from loving, does it?” Mark’s eyes were gentle, trying to express a silent “ _ it’s okay _ ”. “They’re going to stop you. But have you ever stopped loving, no,  _ can _ you ever stop loving because they stopped you?”

Taeyong was at a loss. Mark had his palms in a light squeeze, just the right amount of warmth needed for sorting out his thoughts. Mark was right. People were going to stop them, when did they not, but that didn’t mean Taeyong could stop loving him. Mark felt the familiar arms caging him, Taeyong was crying. 

* * *

“Hyung, Baekhyun hyung,” Taeyong soaked Baekhyun with his voice, Baekhyun’s two syllables running languid on his tongue. One of the nights when Taeyong asked to share a room during their recordings still on the line. Baekhyun loved how Taeyong called him, he could see how much Taeyong desired him and he loved it. He wanted to b the blind lover and uncaring of the probing eyes, he wished to kiss Taeyong on the stage. But his kisses were always behind closed doors, because unknowingly, he was scared too.

“Hyung had that photo as his wallpaper for days,” Mark laughed, high pitched. Taeyong didn’t know where to hide his obvious embarrassment. Baekhyun was laughing along, subtly giving him a secret glance and smiled.  _ Wicked, he was, _ Taeyong wondered.

After practices, they came close and pull back, both relishing how their presence affects the other. It was just a hug. Baekhyun wanted nothing more than to pull him back in his embrace, dive into him and pry on his body, leave open mouthed kisses on his lips, his neck, his chest, his thighs and every bone of Taeyong’s lean body. Taeyong would accept all of him. It scared the older how his innocent motives of embarrassing the other had become so vicious and unspeakable to human ears. 

Baekhyun met Taeyong outside working hours only rarely. Like once in a month, and it was that one day. Taeyong asked Doyoung if he looked way too dressed up for a casual hyung-dongsaeng meeting, Doyoung chuckled saying he did, but he looked gorgeous anyways. 

Taeyong hid well behind his clothings, the crowd outside could barely tell him different from the other people walking beside him. Baekhyun was the same, but Taeyong could tell his eyes from anywhere. Taeyong had waited under the street lights, feeling all giddy and Baekhyun right behind him. 

“Thanks for waiting, Yongie,” Baekhyun beamed under his mask, but Taeyong noticed how his eyes crinkled. 

“It hasn’t been long.” Taeyong muttered shyly, clenching his fists inside his pockets. 

It was just another normal stress out event for both, where Baekhyun chugged soju like an absolute drunkard, and Taeyong sipping from the ends of his glass when Baekhyun urged him to taste it. 

Baekhyun’s love for Taeyong kicked off as a fickle desire to hold the younger and Baekhyun assigned it as his foolish act of being drunk with soju. But Taeyong wasn’t drunk and it wasn’t a mistake, and in no time he was hopelessly infatuated all over again. It was a kiss, what Baekhyun offered him that night. A simple offer for boys like them in Korean boy bands because they’re going through their adulthood and alone with the guys obviously affected them. 

Baekhyun’s intentions were purely sexual, to make the younger sin on his tongue. Whereas, Taeyong, as pure as Baekhyun’s name allowed him to be, only loved. No sexual desires clouding his brain, he breathed of love, dreamt of love and to be kissed like his first kiss. Taeyong felt vulnerable with his love on the line, he felt naked, when Baekhyun gazed at him and spoke of him–jokingly of course–as his darling. Taeyong let his anger seep through his veins, not too much but never too less. He let the anger flow till the point of burning but not till the point of exploding. He knew how to oppress his love, but not his hurt because Baekhyun read him like an open book, feelings excluded. Or maybe Baekhyun did know about the extent of his feelings. But just like how a blind lover gets scared at his first sight, Baekhyun steps back, scared to touch him. Baekhyun takes a step forward and Taeyong imitates, but then Baekhyun steps back, and Taeyong never forces him to come close. 

It became normal, for them to kiss once in a while. But of course making sure that there was absolutely no one around. It became a kind of routine, like everytime they met, Baekhyun greedily asked for a kiss. Taeyong did too, at night when the streetlights were dimmed and Baekhyun wouldn’t see his flushed face in the dark. 

“Tell me you love me, when you kiss me.” Taeyong once rolled over the words on his tongue, in between one of their kisses, and later regretted it as his biggest mistake. That’s when Baekhyun pulled back, because love was something he was scared of, to give or to receive. Baekhyun didn’t touch him from that day onwards. 

No matter how much he yearned, Baekhyun only left him drinking up his words, burning the words that he’s an idol and not a beggar of love. But Baekhyun once lured him to be both, during one of their Superm concerts. Baekhyun had sneaked up like a fool behind him, enveloping him in a hug, “You’re perfect,” the words etched into his memories, leaving a bitter aftertaste. While being embraced, Taeyong let his repressed feelings seep through his back, hoping hopelessly that Baekhyun would feel them. Baekhyun was lost. But scared nonetheless. He wasn’t ready. 

His days with Superm never lasted long. And it was just a few minutes–which in reality were a whole week, before Taeyong found himself leaving Baekhyun and the latter leaving him too. Taeyong had his own time thinking about the consequences, about how everything would work out. In the end he was left with yearning, longing desperately for Baekhyun’s touch. He could only mumble out innumerable weak “ _ Don’t leave hyung _ ” knowing that Baekhyun wouldn’t listen. His texts didn’t say much. A simple  _ hello _ every morning or a  _ have you eaten  _ in the evening, or a  _ goodnight _ dropping in his inbox every night, it was normal. Baekhyun never once brought up the conversation about their kisses, and Taeyong was left alone with an empty feeling gnawing at his guts. 

When they met again for another comeback and/or a promo, he was back to square one, except it was worse than before. Friendship and love in the industry had a fine common line, and many a time Taeyong didn’t pay attention to any. He didn’t know how to describe their relationship as. Yes indeed, he was in love with Byun Baekhyun, that didn’t mean the addressed felt the same. On the contrary, Taeyong forced himself to believe that Baekhyun was not at all, can never like him other than a friend—a dongsaeng in his industry. Yes, he was feeling low of himself, but that was because it’s Baekhyun. Because Byun Baekhyun can have anyone in this fucking big world with an even bigger population, and it was almost ludicrous to Taeyong that Baekhyun would spare him a second glance. But Baekhyun did. In fact, he had Baekhyun’s eyes locked on him, shifting away only when it got awkward. Baekhyun touched him like a hyung but his eyes asked for a kiss. But it wasn’t as simple as before. 

“Please say that you’re not thinking of just keeping quiet.” Mark asked one day, and Taeyong smiled like one of the protagonists in the tragic movies he watched to cry. “Are you serious?” Mark gaped at him. “You’re insane hyung. You’re backing off not even knowing if he’d reject you. It’s like you’re not even taking the risk to give your feelings a chance and that’s so depressing.” Taeyong didn’t really ever voice out who was the recipient of his unconditional affection, but it didn’t take a genius, so Mark kinda figured it out. 

“It should be over soon.” Taeyong had affirmed, yet voice shaking. Mark laughed incredulously. 

* * *

Baekhyun was back to his dorms, but somehow the absence of Lee Taeyong turned the atmosphere weirdly bland. Also, Junmyeon, Minseok and Kyungsoo not being there kinda worsened his situation. He needed to talk, like vent out whatever going on in his head and the three of them would’ve been the best listeners. The only option left was Jongdae since ChanSeKai wouldn’t really get his thoughts in a line. 

Before Baekhyun could approach him, Jongdae cornered him first. “You’re being so weird, you know?” He mused. Baekhyun avoided his gaze. “Come on.” Jongdae pressed. Baekhyun didn’t hesitate anymore. Grabbing by the wrist, he had Jongdae dragged to his room kicking Chanyeol out. Chanyeol made a face but he eventually left. 

“Am I weird?” Baekhyun asked as soon as they were alone. Jongdae raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Of course you’re weird.” 

Baekhyun sighed. “No I mean like _weird weird_.”

“What is your definition of weird-weird? You’re so weird dude.”

“Aaiish! I mean, is it weird to be…..” Baekhyun bit his lips. “......gay?” 

Jongdae burst out in fits of laughter. “ _ That _ is your definition of weird weird?” 

“Well what did you expect?”

“Dude look. Our industry is crammed with dudes and obviously not all of them are straight.” Jongdae explained. 

“What about us?”

“Maybe. Most of us are bisexual, but we don’t really like to voice that aloud.” Jondage said, a grin playing at his lips. Baekhyun looked more confused. Jongdae pulled him to where he was sitting. “Suppose I kiss you right now.” 

“Fuck off I don’t wanna kiss you,” Baekhyun turned away, gagging visibly. Jongdae laughed. “I’m getting married.”

“Uuuh? We know?” 

“No idiot. But I’m not yelling to the world that I’m marrying a woman right?” 

“Uh I don’t understand?” Baekhyun frowned, still confused as ever. 

“Okay. Let me just enlighten.” Jongdae tapped his fingers. “I don’t have to justify why I married a woman.”

“You don’t. Obviously.”

“Why do  _ you _ ?”

Baekhyun shut up. Jongdae was a good speaker, but he didn’t really expect that coming. He felt weird now that he thought about it. All these days, he was just scared of their feelings, of messing up their careers, but in the end they’re left with nothing. What after their careers? Jongdae didn’t explain his love, why should he? Baekhyun sighed. “I’m so stupid.” 

Jongdae laughed hysterically. “At least you realised. Better late than never.”

“I’m trying to sound tragic here, read the situation dude.” 

Jongdae put up his hands in defence. 

Superm had a livestream coming up for “tiger inside”, their new single, and Taeyong was super excited again. He’d meet Baekhyun.  _ Baekhyun _ ? Not so much. He was dreading every passing second, practising his lines, whatever he was going to say to his oh so beloved dongsaeng. It went somewhat like this : “Hello Taeyong. I was so stupid– _ no _ –I was so wrong Taeyongie, I couldn’t live without you– _ fuck no _ –Taeyongie would you be with me–” Baekhyun slammed his phone on the table, turning all eyes on him. 

“It’s happening.” It was Jongin. “Hyung’s time of the month.” 

Chanyeol made a confused face. “Uh, but he doesn’t bleed?”

“He gets his ass on a ride around this time,” Sehun helped– _ not really– _ but Chanyeol seemed to buy it. 

“Baekhyun?” Jongdae piped in. “Think you could tell?” Baekhyun sent one begging glance to Jongdae who just shrugged, but not before Baekhyun mouthing a  _ you traito _ r at his direction. “Uuuuh….”

“How do you…” Baekhyun searched up his list of usable vocabulary, it just turned black, a power cut in his head. 

“How do you what?” Sehun asked, impatient. Baekhyun glared, warning him to keep it shut.

“Uummm...like how do you like uuuh..like…”

“Have you been talking to Mark?” Jongin asked, muffling his laugh. 

“Shut up. Uhhh...how do you…” Baekhyun struggled. “C-confess?” 

A moment of silence. It didn’t last long though, all of them kinda exploded, Chanyeol rolling down the couch to the floor then Sehun following suit face first, Jongin laughing obnoxiously loud and shrill, Jongdae had his lips in a tight line, probably trying not to make it worse. 

“Y’all are my friends.” Baekhyun gaped, “were my friends, honestly.” 

Sehun breathed in between breathless laughs, “Hyung, you just came here, and dropped it outta nowhere like you’re 27 and you’re asking how to confess. What are you?”

“What’s so wrong in that, Oh Sehun?” Baekhyun glared. 

“Nothing, it’s just that you’ve dated enough people to know that by now.” Chanyeol laughed. 

“But I haven’t dated a guy ever before okay–oh shit—” Baekhyun slapped his palms over his mouth but it was too late. They already heard, and stopped laughing of course. Baekhyun couldn’t really read their faces or make out what they were thinking except Jongdae who was grinning. But the other three just sat there, without a word, without any expressions or whatsoever. 

“Uuuh…” 

“You’re gay?” Sehun asked first. 

“Not really. I’ve dated girls, so bisexual maybe.” 

“Woah.” Sehun looked kinda amazed, and Baekhyun heaved a sigh of relief. At least the maknae approved. 

“So who’s the guy?” Chanyeol spoke up. “I mean, do we know?”

“Oh you do. Very well.” Baekhyun chuckled awkwardly. 

“Oh?” Sehun perked up, suddenly interested in everything. “Don’t tell me, one of us?”

“NO, good lord. You’re like my family I mean I have nothing against incest but no—”

“We get it, hyung.” Jongin helped. “Is it uuuhh...I just realised we know too many guys and I have no idea who it could be.” Jongin scratched his head. “Who is it hyung?” 

Baekhyun avoided their gaze, suddenly embarrassed of the current situation.”Uuuuh well you know….Lee Tae—”

“Holy fucking shit.” Jongin breathed. “I can’t believe this oh my god OH MY GOD HYUNG.” 

“Yeah I was kinda like that too,” Baekhyun laughed, feeling light. He slumped down on the couch beside Jongdae. 

“People ship me with him,” Jongin giggled. “How come you’re the one in love?”

“Huh?” Baekhyun sat back up straight. “People ship you with Yongie?”

“Yongie who wait who HOLY FUCKING SHIT I DID NOT REALISE,” Jongin broke out, eyes wide like Kyungsoo’s ass. 

“You thought it was—”

“Taemin, yes.” Jongin explained, still stunned. 

“Pffft no, it’s Taeyongie~” Baekhyun cooed. Sehun made a face. “Yeah we get it you like him. Stop flexing.” 

“Can’t help. He’s just perfect,” Baekhyun swooned, Jongin nodded undoubtedly, agreeing with the older. 

* * *

To call the livestream of ‘Tiger inside’ tiring was an understatement. Though Taeyongie was super excited to meet Baekhyun again, he didn’t really fancy waking up at 3 and putting his makeup on for a two hour long livestream. 

However, it disturbed him more how even meeting after so long, Baekhyun kept his hyung-dongsaeng distance. Everytime he made a subtle move to come close, Baekhyun retreated like a deer chased by its prey. Then his eyes fell back to where Mark was staring, right back at him. It was as if he was warning him, his eyes narrowing slightly, away from the lens of the camera. "Don't just do nothing, hyung." Mark leaned behind Jongin, letting the older cover for him. Taeyong gulped. 

The livestream ended, okay, but Taeyong didn't plan on stopping there. Mark would kill him if he just went away after this. So he did what he wanted. He cornered Baekhyun in one of the stalls of the building's restroom, leaning dangerously close. 

"You needed to use the restroom?" Baekhyun stuttered. "I'll just leave, Taeyo—" Taeyong came closer to him, the vocalist halting his sentence midway. 

"Just stop, hyung." Taeyong begged, lowering his body to rest his head on Baekhyun's chest. "It's so hard to just stay quiet, it hurts when you're like this." 

Baekhyun felt the familiar lump blocking his throat, the same nauseous feeling clawing at his heart when he came across his feelings towards the younger boy. "It's hard for me too, Taeyong," He whispered, words falling before he had a chance to stop. Well, no use stopping now.

"Why do you have to make it that way, hyung? I don't want it to be like this anymore." Taeyong cried out, clutching the collar of Baekhyun's casual tee shirt. 

"Then how do you want it to be, Yong?" 

Taeyong stopped with his impulsive words. "C-can't hyung love me?" 

Baekhyun could speak no more. His whole world speeding with a thousand miles per hour halted in just a second. Just because of one person–Lee Taeyong. He wanted to be the one to say it first, but Taeyong never failed to surprise him. "What do you think?" 

Taeyong slumped on his body, arms straying by their sides,head on his chest.  _ Was it his heartbeat? Or was it Taeyong's?  _ Baekhyun couldn't tell from how close they were beating. "Can hyung not love me?" Taeyong repeated again, hangul muffled on Baekhyun's shirt. Baekhyun laughed. "Yongie, why do you think I'm letting you trap me in a restroom stall, smothering me with your endless confessions?" Taeyong flushed.

"Isn't it obvious by now?" Baekhyun kissed over Taeyong's forehead and along his jawline. "Hyung has already given you his heart. Don't you realise? The way my heart's beating faster everytime you're close to me," Baekhyun kissed his nose. "Isn't it because I like you?" 

Taeyong stopped functioning. "Yo-you..do?" Baekhyun laughed again, amused at how Taeyong was super embarrassed even though he was the one acting brave a few minutes ago. "Okay stop making fun of me, hyung." Taeyong whined, letting go of Baekhyun's shirt.

Baekhyun observed him fondly, the things he dismissed earlier were more prominent to him than ever. Taeyong's eyes, they sparkled under the low lights of the restroom, his lips shivered in nervousness. Baekhyun was dizzy from his scent, being this close to his object of interest. "Honestly Yong," Taeyong looked up, following the words on Baekhyun's lips. "I just wanna kiss you senseless right now," Taeyong inhaled sharply, his heart swelling up. "Would you let me?" 

Baekhyun was sweeter than he had imagined, Taeyong relished in his warmth. "I've always wanted you to, hyung." Baekhyun grinned before pressing his lips over Taeyong's neck, leaving his nude lipstick on Taeyong's exposed skin. Taeyong breathed out a soft moan, clinging on to the older man. Taeyong had his fingers threading through Baekhyun's blonde locks, occassionally pulling them when Baekhyun bit on his bottom lip out of the blue. Baekhyun snapped open another button of Taeyong's neatly ironed shirt, kissing open mouthed along his collarbone. Baekhyun reversed their positions and now he was the one pinning the rapper on the thin walls, Taeyong instinctively wrapping his lean legs around Baekhyun's torso. The older man moved even closer, the fabric being the only thing separating their burning bodies. 

Taeyong imagined Baekhyun to be a good kisser, but damn, as soon as his lips met Baekhyun's, he was in ecstasy. Good didn't even begin to describe what he felt, he felt his hyung kissing him sweetly, and just like he imagine, he felt Baekhyun kissing his sweetness in him. Taeyong locked his arms around his neck, pulling him as close as he could letting Baekhyun press deeper, and kiss him crazy.

"We should–" Baekhyun rolled his hips. Taeyong moaned. "–go back, hyung," Baekhyun didn't seem to take him seriously as he continued devouring him, and he would've really if not for a knock on the door. They stopped abruptly. 

"Y'all gonna come out or what?"  _ Chittaphon _ . "Hyung dont tease him too much, or he'll be horny all the way back home." He laughed as the said boy gave a muffled noise of protest. 

The footsteps faded away, and the duo detached themselves, faces almost as pink as Mark's hair during 'tiger inside'. "You wanna fix that before going out?" Baekhyun stated, and the addresses followed his line of sight. His shirt was still stark open, and his hair all over the place. Taeyong giggled shyly, fixing his shirt buttons, Baekhyun fondly combing his hair with his fingers back in place. "L-let's go?" Taeyong didn't meet his eyes. Baekhyun kissed his forehead, hands grabbing his wrist. "Mmn, let's go." 

Taeyong never felt happier. Baekhyun only mirrored his smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> istg baekyong is the sweetest thing happening in superm and they don't even hide it asdfjklhflgsfjk ㅠㅠ


	3. back home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> um nothing really happens here lol :)

"Hyung, wait, hyung," Taeyong stumbled in his steps, straight up hitting onto Baekhyun as the leader halted in his tracks. 

"Hmnn?" Baekhyun asked, turning back, the grin always plastered to his pretty face. "What is it, Yongie?" Taeyong had his hands on Baekhyun's chest, and gave a glance behind him. 

"Umm, hyung," Taeyong fumbled with the velvety fabric of Baekhyun's favorite shirt, not really meeting his eyes. "Are we, are we going back to _our_ dorms?" Taeyong asked, hoping that Baekhyun understood that he meant their– _SuperM_ –dorms. Baekhyun ruffled his hair, scattering the already puffy locks of hair all over the place, Taeyong poured. 

"You're going back," Baekhyun stepped away, leaving a strange distance between then. "I am too. But not in _our_ dorms." 

_Oh._ Taeyong's shoulders fell. Yes, obviously he missed NCT, he was literally so excited to meet them again after all the promotional activities, it was only short-lived. He was going back, which meant he was going to be the leader again. A responsible, and caring leader. He was more than enough to be a star leader, but it gets hard on him at times. He had the tendency to take care of people, and honestly he loved to take care of people and have them depend on him. But sometimes, it was just nice to lay back, and see someone else do it for him, yet so effortlessly. Baekhyun was so much more than he could ever be. 

Taeyong knew, Baekhyun would laugh at him for being better at cracking jokes than him, and Jongin would for once agree that Baekhyun couldn’t dance or rap for shit, and that Taeyong indeed was crazy to believe that. But being a leader, Taeyong could see how perfect he was. For outsiders, he didn't even seem like a leader, and for most, he seemed like just a guy who laughs a lot. But he knew, all of them knew, how exceptionally good he was at his job. Cleaning up after their drunk days, falling asleep after them, making sure absolutely no one felt left out, there were countless times when Taeyong was slapped in the face with reality. Baekhyun indeed was a great leader. But the hidden cameras didn't know it, Baekhyun was too experienced to let them know it.

"Hey hey, now." Baekhyun cooed gently. "Come over here." Right beside him. Taeyong obliged, scurried to occupy the empty space before Ten or Yukhei lest they suspect anything or take away his place. Maybe he was being a bit petty, _but why not, why not, for once, can't he be petty for once?_

* * *

He sighed in his arms. It was so safe? Taeyong didn't know if he explained it right, but Baekhyun kinda had a calming effect on him. Like he could sleep in the hardest of times, without a worry, well only if there's a Byun Baekhyun by his side. He recently found that out and it ate out his brain like crazy. 

"Hyung?" Taeyong mumbled under his breath, pulling up closer tentatively, and giving enough time to Baekhyun in case he wanted to move away. He didn't, of course. Baekhyun seemed to relish the attention, and in turn, pressed a hand behind his head, pushing it down on his shoulder. Taeyong gulped. _Oh shit_ , here they go again, his heart was about to burst. 

"Get some sleep. It's gonna be three hours." Taeyong didn't have a say, it was nice. To have someone take care of him. 

* * *

They dropped Taemin off, Jongin almost squeezing him to death, even though they were going to meet literally _every day,_ but guess they just missed each other too much. 

And another fifteen minutes later, they were standing in front of NCT dorms, all 19 of them waiting up for him. 

"Wow," Baekhyun scanned through the 19 faces of his dongsaengs. "It's a party here." 

"Well, what do you expect with 19 children?" Johnny added, hands on his hips. "And 4 under your care?" 

"Point. Also that my dream of meeting all of you at once just became true," Baekhyun grinned, brightly and maybe or maybe not half of them just swooned. "Ah, I feel like I'm in a drama or something. Handsome men, and they're everywhere." 

"Thank you, Baekhyun hyuuuung," Donghyuck drawled, scoffing at the way Taeyong was being carried. Baekhyun had him in his arms, bridal style, and Taeyong probably wanted to just merge with the earth or let the heavens take him. 

"Also did you hear, he called me, handsome." Donghyuck flipped his imaginary long hair. 

"Technically all of us, but okay." Ten shooed him off. 

"Yongie," Baekhyun fanned up a stray strand of blonde lock falling over his face. Johnny gave a look, Taeyong returned a scowl. "Yongie said his legs were numb and he needed some time." 

Doyoung probably made a mocking " _really now?"_ phrase under his oversized hoodie. "You could've gone for piggyback." Johnny wiggled his eyebrows and Taeyong– _still in Baekhyun's arms_ –literally gaped at him, he was so getting that smirk slapped off his sexy face that night. 

"Well, I don't wanna hurt him, it's easier this way," Baekhyun grinned and whispered, _"that way I could have my coat smell like you and sleep better."_

Taeyong felt bloated. From love, obviously. Definitely, love. 

"Or you would just stop with why I have him in my arms and take him in—can you walk now, Yong?" Taeyong nodded a yes as fast as he could and jumped off him, a little too fast. 

" _God,_ " Johnny turned his attention to Ten, kinda measuring him affectionately. "He seems to have more names for Taeyong hyung than I could ever have for you. How _cute._ " Ten rolled his eyes, and for once maybe, Baekhyun seemed to falter, but he composed, back to his _i-never-mess-up_ aura. Johnny laughed. 

Doyoung was the first to almost snatch Taeyong from Baekhyun's side, grabbing his shoulders a little too tight, and a little too much of his jealousy sparking off on Taeyong's sweater. "Thanks hyung. _Goodnight_." Then he was off, dragging Taeyong, who was torn between saying goodnight to his best hyung and being kidnapped by his best friend. 

"Woah." Baekhyun looked after their fast retreating backs. Johnny shrugged. "Yeah, he gets like that everytime you bring him home. You know, doesn't want his _friend_ to be stolen." 

"Oh but I'm not stealing him." Baekhyun defended himself, waving dismissively. And before Johnny could say anything in return, he continued. "But alas, I'm _very much_ aiming for his heart." Johnny's mouth hung open. "Might as well be his body, but you see I love him too much to share." And he didn't have a care in this whole world, he just laid out his heart in open, for all 23–21 now, Doyoung had taken off with their leader, to just stare at him, in awe.

"But it's between us." He winked and they returned a conforming smile in return. Taemin might not have been wrong in choosing Byun Baekhyun as SuperM's leader. 

* * *

" _You, GOD,_ " Doyoung gagged, "You, or I don't even know, maybe him, y'all were all over each other. Personal distance? Social distance? You heard? And they say it's corona time. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant." He went on, before Johnny stopped him.

"You're so mad, calm down, jesus," He patted his arms, but obviously angry Doyoung wasn't going to calm down just like that. 

"Did you see how gross he was?" Johnny raised an eyebrow. Baekhyun, gross? "He was groping _my best friend."_ Oh. That's the issue. " _In front of me. Motherf—_ "

"You might be the best friend." It was Yuta, blowing gently over his newly painted nails. "But that's his boyfriend. Tough competition. OH MY GOD is this a harem?" 

"STOP JESUS bring that head of yours down here," Ten growled, rubbing his temples. But Doyoung's eyes were dilated into slits, even though the room was like way too bright. "What…..did you say?" 

Yuta shrugged, still not panicking like Johnny or Ten or Taeil, and without a fear, he said, like a fearless hero, "He just confessed. In front of like _ALL_ of us, well, except you and hyung. He confessed that he loves him, and I'm like 290% sure that Taeyong hyung loves him too, so fair chance they're dating." 

" _Huh_? Maybe add back the 10%?" Mark piped in for the first time he came in. "Like you don't even know how they were when they were together. Literally, glued. My head hurts from too much love, and it's not even me who's in love." Yukhei nodded, agreeing. 

He got up, stretching out. "I'm going in for a shower." But then he stopped in his tracks, placing a hand on Doyoung's shoulder. "But hyung?" He flashed a look, probably a pleading one. "Don't call him, Baekhyun hyung, gross. It, uh, you know, it takes a whole lot of courage to say that, to come out in front of so many eyes. Please, just don't call him or Taeyong hyung or whatever they have, gross, again." Then he added under his breath, unheard, even though Doyoung heard some English syllables but it was too fast for him to figure it out. "Not everyone can love, that easily, and bravely." Because Mark was already running off towards his room. 

Doyoung inhaled the pungent smell of phenyl, suddenly too strong. Let the anger just ebb away, and a second later, he didn't even know why he was so mad. 

* * *

Taeyong scrolled through his inbox with fluttered fingers, the lowered brightness of his phone still hurt his eyes. Then, uninterested in the blank screen (not many had his number and the ones that did, they meet too often to text), Taeyong pressed the call. 

_"Hey,"_ Voice still groggy, Taeyong assumed that Baekhyun had been asleep, maybe, but didn't he answer the call too fast to have been asleep? 

_"Hey, hyung."_ It seemed awkward. As soon as the distance between them increased, the awkwardness seemed to return, be it one-sided or maybe both-sided. _"Should I call back later? You should get back to sleep."_

He heard laughter from the side. Definitely Jongin. _"No babe,"_ A distinct cough, and it's Jongin again, maybe some Sehun added. And Taeyong himself almost merging himself with the blankets over him. _"They made me have a whole bucket of ice-cream. All by myself. To celebrate. But obviously, it's all for show, they're definitely in this together."_ He cleared his throat. _"And now my throat hurts_ . _"_

 _"You don't have to talk then."_ Taeyong suggested. He didn't want Baekhyun to feel as if he was straining him. Or he didn't want to strain him at all. 

_"Then,"_ A comfortable silence followed. And just when Taeyong thought that Baekhyun really did maybe fall asleep, he hoarsed out again. _"Then you do the talking. Maybe sing me to sleep? I love your voice. Might as well put it up as my personal ringtone."_

Taeyong flushed, if he had hawk eyes, he could've seen his reflected blushed face looking right back at him through the screen. That would probably turn him crazy. 

_"Hyuuung, I don't think I should—"_

"Speak so loudly, maybe? there's another person trying to sleep. And having your love talk on repeat is really distracting." Doyoung. "I don't have anything against you two, christ, don't glare at me like a cat, it's just hard falling asleep."

Taeyong turned away. _"Hyuuuung,"_ He whispered lower this time, almost inaudible, even to him.

 _"Yeaah."_ Baekhyun whispered back just as low, like some kind of sweet game they indulge them into. _"I heard. He's mad. Then just keep the phone on, maybe on your heart. I'll sleep even faster."_ Baekhyun was indeed stealing his heart, if not Taeyong had already devoted it to him. 


	4. right here with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at first i thought of making this short, more like a oneshot, but they grew on me ㅠㅠ so im going to make this longer with a concrete storyline (lmao i wish) but let's hope this works out: :")))

He had been late to wake up. Well, not a problem since all of them woke up late and Johnny kinda fought with the manager to cancel their practice today. Taeyong owed him one. His phone was switched off, and Taeyong laughed in his head. _Obviously_. Being on a call, the whole night, was probably too much for his phone. He was going to put in the charger, but Doyoung's phone had already taken it's place. Funny, how they still share chargers all over the household. Like, they're twenty three altogether, and there're not more that what, ten chargers excluded the manager? So everyone's using everyone's. Not a big deal anymore. Taeyong slumped back, throwing his phone aside on the bed. 

It was around ten, when someone came in person to check up on him. And it's Doyoung again. It was kinda awkward to face him after last night, after he had maybe gone over the top with his jealousy. But Taeyong swore that it gave him the joy of his life. His best friend and  _ b-boyfriend  _ fighting over him. It made him feel needed. 

"So you're awake." Doyoung pulled off his phone from the charger and Taeyong rushed to put his in place. "Good. Come down for brea—uhh no, food, it's not breakfast anymore." 

Taeyong nodded, turning on his phone. Doyoung sighed. "Okay, listen here now." He flopped down on his bed, and now they were facing each other. Taeyong turned his attention to him, lowkey scared, hands clasped over his knees. 

"Yes." Taeyong chalked out.

"Yes, okay. So." Doyoung seemed to search for some appropriate phrases that would fit in this kind of situation, but then the scrunched of his upper lip told that he probably came up with nothing. "Tch. Okay. Let me be clear. You and Baekhyun hyung." Taeyong stiffened. _This again_. Whenever Doyoung uttered 'Baekhyun hyung' it was not always in a good way. "Are you two a thing?" 

Taeyong gulped. "Th-thing? What thing?" 

"Oh come on. Don't start pretending now." Doyoung waved. "I wouldn't have been surprised if he kissed you yesterday. He's that shameless, and no," Doyoung stopped as Taeyong was gurgling up a protest. "Whatever he is, I don't know, hell, I don't wanna know. But he's definitely shameless." 

Taeyong played with his fingers. His phone vibrated. "Ah, look, there he is." Doyoung pointed at the screen.  _ Obviously. Baekhyun.  _

"Ummm," Taeyong looked over to the wall behind him, at least it was less scary than his best friend's probing eyes. "Do….do you  _ hate _ him?" 

Doyoung sighed. He has been doing that a lot now. "No look. It's not my business. It's all okay if you're okay, and as much as I hate to say this, he might be the one who keeps you okay. So I don't particularly  _ hate  _ him. It's a strong word." Doyoung searched for words again. His nose scrunched up, then fell in place again. "Uuhhh distaste? Like he's too good, too shameless because I don't wanna chalk up his shamelessness as some weird act of bravery, and maybe he's a good person. So nah. All I have for him is respect as a sunbae who sings exceptionally good, and _that's it_. But the dating you part," Doyoung clicked his tongue. "I haven't given it a thought. It's too sudden. But I'll figure out, and don't worry, it won't be too bad. Possibly." 

This time, Taeyong was the one heaving out a sigh, his awkwardness all gone. "Thank  _ god.  _ I thought you'd go all homophlbic on me." 

"There's a difference. It's not that I'm mad because you're two guys. It's just that it's _him_. Byun Baekhyun from EXO. We know how insanely popular they are. And, we aren't any less popular either. At least, not anymore. Do you maybe see my point now?" Doyoung clarified. "It's not because of being gay or bisexual like I don't give a fuck about who likes who. But  _ this _ ," Doyoung made air quotes. "Is so fucking dangerous. _It scares me_." 

Taeyong nibbled on his lips. "I...Doyoung, I'm sorry." But he wasn't wrong. They're not just _anyone_. They're EXO and NCT. They can't do anything and be unbothered by it. It would kill them, both of them and along with them, the others too. The thought made his blood run cold. "I-I'm scared too, Doyoung." Taeyong trembled. The hateful feeling crept up his spine, it all felt too familiar. He was used to it, being hated, often by their own fans, but it still hurt like hell. Like vivid nightmares, they claw at him every chance they got. Taeyong was strong, but he was only human.

Doyoung placed a comforting hand over his crooning knees. "I don't wanna be the villain to your love story, hyung. But just so you know, you're Lee Taeyong of NCT and they won't leave you in one piece. Just so you know, you're still my best friend and seeing you hurt, hurts me too." He brushed up, and briskly stepped towards him, pulling him into a tight hug. Taeyong's heart dropped. Doyoung was right.  _ They won't leave him alone. _

* * *

_ If you'd have been there, i wouldn't be so hurt. If you'd have held my head while i cried, hurting, and breathless on the counter, maybe we would've been different.  _

Mark traced the corner of his lips.  _ Lips to lips. Us. Now.  _ A smile tugged the corner of his lips.  _ Not anymore.  _ It was late, but he didn't feel like sleeping anymore. 

Seconds later, he was in the kitchen, making a vigorous attempt to not cry while cutting the onions. His hands worked mechanically, putting aside the pieces. He needed to keep his head clean. Everything's so messed up, _he_ , was messed up. 

" _Hey_." A strained voice echoed through the empty walls of the kitchen, matching the silent noise of the cutting knife. Mark froze. 

"Hey, Mark." He uttered again, this time louder. Or maybe he had come closer, and Mark was panicking, whether he should run or stay in place. But the moment someone breathed on his neck, he knew, running wasn't an option anymore. His toes crumbled emptily on the cold floor. Just to hold on to something. 

"Hey," Too much in his head to turn back, and say a hey back. Too scared he was, to face him without crying. 

Then he touched him. Pair of arms around his waist, face snug against his neck, Mark's heart stopped. 

"Y-Yuta hyung," The light was too low it seemed. Mark wanted it lower. Just let him not see him right now, let him go deaf for a second's cost and not hear his heart. 

" _Mark_." Yuta's voice stuttered his pace, he hated it, everything that surprised him. "Minhyung.  _ Mark _ ."  _ Stop it. Make it stop.  _

"Hyung," Mark struggled against his hold. "Let go.  _ Please _ ." 

His arms only tightened denying his protests so blatantly. Mark felt his body heat seeping through his sweater and it was too familiar. The warmth, and the cold that came with it after. But it was Yuta, in the end. "Hyung, please let go." 

" _No_." Head on his back, Yuta rocked him,like a baby.  _ His _ baby. Mark wanted to scream, cry, anything, just not be here, not here within the centimeters of Nakamoto Yuta. "Don't run away anymore. I know you don't wanna, don't run away from me, Mark, you—" 

_ "Stop."  _ Both hearts came to a stop. "I'm not running away, hyung _. I never ran away_. You fucking knew it." And with a hard push, he detached his limp body from the taller, rushing off like he had seen a ghost. To his safe haven. 

Suh Youngho proved to be a good listener, very much like a gurdian-angel figure whom Mark had come to rely on. A _lot._ Like he knew more things about Mark than about himself, and it didn't surprise him anymore. 

Johnny was on his ph one when Mark came in, scattered hair, and tremors all over him and Johnny didn't ask anything. Mark cried on him, just like always. At this point, it was natural that whenever Mark had his bad times, and cried like the niagara falls, Johnny held him close, and just let him cry. Rubbing random hangeul on his back, until he calmed down. 

"Hyung," Mark sobbed. "I can't do this." 

Johnny stopped with his patterns. "You don't wanna be with him." Mark nodded a feeble yes on his chest, head buried. "But you wanna be with him." Yes again. "Then there's Jongin hyung." Another yes, more firmly. 

Johnny groaned. "Okay, that's hard." Mark snorted groggy vocals, muffled but crying too, giving off a weird sound. 

"How do you just find yourself all the boys? And they're all hot?  _ And _ bothered for you? Ah, you're that hot, " Johnny rubbed his temples. Mark protested, head bumping lightly on his chest. "Okay, okay, sorry. But seriously, what do you do?" 

Mark sniffed, "I came to you for a reason." 

"Yeah, okay I know, _ugh_ , this is hard. They're both good guys." Mark pulled away, head slumped over his shoulders now. Johnny flicked the tuft of hair, which fell back in place, again and again. "Maybe you had some weird fight with Yuta, but that dude loves you, man. You can just tell." He sighed, Mark stiffened up. 

" _And?_ " 

"And I don't know about Jongin. Baekhyun hyung kinda outshone everyone last night, so I didn't get a chance to see him fawning over you." Johnny cackled. Mark pinched his thigh. "He doesn't  _ fawn _ over me?? Come on??" 

"Oh everyone fawns over you, Mark Lee," Johnny took his voice a pitch higher. "Even I do too, oppa, please marry me!" 

Mark croaked slash laughed, and honestly, he felt much lighter. Talking with Johnny always had it's bright effects. He's ike an elder brother that everyone needs, but obviously, they're not Mark Lee. 

"So what do I do?" 

Johnny softened his gaze. "You know." He ruffled a comforting palm over Mark's head. "Let it work out. If something's meant to be, it will work out. Just wait, k?"

Mark shifted in his place, head still half stuck in his worries, and Johnny's wise words which he couldn't make out. "And?"

"And what? Either you'll end up with one of them. Or maybeeee," he drawled. "You'll end up with both of them." Mark gave a strangled howl, almost leaping from his place. But Johnny, unfazed, continued. "Or, oh how sad, you end up with none." Mark drooped. "But you'll still have me. To find you a good guy. Or girl. Or person. Or someone who doesn't go by any of these prono—" 

"I get it so stop, _god,_ you're hurting my ears." 

"Whaaat? There is a potential possibility for everything to work out. Just let go, you'll be fine." 

Maybe Johnny was right. Maybe it will work out. Maybe he didn't need to worry anymore. Mark blanked out. "Mmn." 

* * *

"Do I get to meet Baekhyun hyung out of schedule?" Taeyong chirped in his place, feeling impatient. He looked like a hamster, and Doyoung wanted to punch his face. But he definitely would _not_ , because one, he was too cute to be punched, two, a face sculpted by angels he dare not touch, and third, he cared too much. 

"I don't know, I'm not your manager. You're the leader here." Doyoung snapped. 

Taeyong pouted.  _ Okay fuck _ . He promised, he wouldn't melt from those unbearably illegal pouts and improvised watery eyes, but here they were. Same scenario on repeat.  _ Alexa play unfair by exo.  _ Doyoung for once let his head talk. 

"So? So? Doyouuuung~" 

"Stooop, jesus. I don't know really, ask our manager or something." 

Taeyong cracked a smile. One of those familiar ones which tickled your  _ something's fishy  _ senses. 

"Okay what did you do?" 

Taeyong giggled, shaking his head.

"Oh naw, I'm not trusting you on that. So what? What shit are you up to this time?" 

Taeyong pulled the covers over his head. Doyoung almost had a heart attack from how adorable he was. "Hehe." 

"I'm going to sneak out." Taeyong dropped. Doyoung gaped at him. "And you're going to help me." 

_ "Oh no no no no, what again?" _

"You're going to help me." 

"I heard loud and clear but  _ what _ ?" Doyoung tilted his head. "We literally have practice early. And we canceled today. We can't cancel tomorrow." 

"Just for one day, please.  _ Please?  _ Cover for me? Pleaseeee? "

Doyoung huffed. He couldn’t put up a strong protest even if he wanted to, it was losing battle and he knew it. No one ever wins when Lee Taeyong is playing and not in your team. "Fine. But don't find trouble, is that clear?" It almost sounded too easy. But Doyoung just couldn't refuse Taeyong's happiness just when he found it. He was too soft for him. 

Taeyong's face lightened up like a star in its better days, and it gave Doyoung more reasons to not refuse him in the face. 

* * *

It was 10.36, and Baekhyun just wanted practice to end. He had been sour since morning, Taeyong hadn't replied to him. And now added to his frustration was the new choreography. It went six feet over his head and even though he was kinda natural at learning choreos, nothing's really working out. He slumped back against the mirror, panting. 

"You're recording a week later, I hope it hasn't slipped your busy mind." Casper chided, dropping in front of him, chugging down a whole bottle of water. Baekhyun sighed in annoyance. "Yeah, I know, I remember. It's just that the moves at some point are too hard, but that's not an excuse, I know that too. I...I'm just tired, and it's my insomnia." 

Casper seemed to soften his tone. "Are you okay? Like do you need help?" 

Baekhyun scoffed.  _ They were all like this.  _ "Help? Yeah?  _ Like what _ ?" 

Casper scratched his neck, obviously confused. And it was clear that he blurted it just out of concern, but Baekhyun didn't really accept half-hearted concerns which will ooze out just for anybody. Yes, he was maybe a little too petty, but what could he do? That's just how he was. 

"Uuuh, consult a therapist?" 

Baekhyun laughed, loud in the room, his voice reflecting against the mirrors and hitting back and forth. "Stop talking. I'm tired." 

"Okay." Casper stopped, awkwardly. "I'm going back then. Take care." Baekhyun wanted to laugh from how fast he fled, stumbling on his way more than once. And he was alone again. 

"Ah Yongie, if only you were here to see me,"  _ Worthless, tired, not enough, words that didn't describe Baekhyun. Would you love me the same,Yong?  _ He trapped the left words in his head. In case they see him, the real him behind everything, he doubted if it would stay the same. It won't. _Definitely won't_. 

He closed his eyes as the world darkened around him. If only he could remain that way, no worries to care about. No one to care about. Being alone. Then he wouldn't have to worry about anything. Was _that_ happiness? He hoped the enormous mirrors would engulf his tears–threatening to fall out, and just not reflect them. He was tired of looking in the mirror. He was tired of his own reflection, looking right back at him, and maybe smiling. _You're not enough._

Baekhyun didn't remember when he fell asleep, but he woke up on someone's chest, and all he realised was that it felt home. He nuzzled closer, snuggling against the familiar body, lean but strong enough to hold him.

"Yongie?" He scraped over the exposed skin of his palms, as if to reconfirm that it was not definitely a dream. Taeyong squirmed beneath him, back pressed against the mirror, and body probably numb from Baekhyun sleeping on him with his whole body pressed over his. 

"Hyung." 

"You're here."  _ He was there. With him.  _ Just when he thought he had none. " _With me_." 

"I'm here, with you." Taeyong smiled. One of those dazzling smiles of his, and Baekhyun couldn't think straight anymore. He was choking on his emotions, the tears that stopped midway, now rolled out, slow and steady, down his cheeks. He looked away, shaking his head to let the bangs fall over his eyes. He couldn't let Taeyong see him like this, he didn't want to let him go. Not just yet. 

" _Hyung_." But surprisingly to Baekhyun–who may have by now assumed that Taeyong saw him crying–and he had a fleeting thought that Taeyong would leave, he did not. He didn't flee like every other person did in this situation— _give him some time alone, just like Casper, and every other person on this planet._ Taeyong was here to stay. 

He held him like his favorite plushie, clutching onto his arms, and every now and then, kissed a promise over his blonde locks. And Baekhyun, cried in his arms, his earlier fears hitting him in waves. But not muffled anymore.  Then they were interlocking fingers, Taeyong counting the lines of his palm, sometimes making assumptions like he'd go bald as soon as he reaches thirty, or that he'll be the sole survivor if an apocalypse hit the earth. The older let out a chuckle, kissing Taeyong's fingertips. When Baekhyun gazed at him in the eyes, he could see himself. He laughed freely in his head, the him in Taeyong's eyes, was so much different. Taeyong was so incredibly strong, more than he let out. 

"Hold me closer, Yongie, I can't feel your breath on my neck." Baekhyun mumbled, clearly embarrassed. Taeyong smiled, shyly, and with an abrupt tentative pull, he had Baekhyun closer, closer than anyone that he could think of. They were so tangled up, if someone came in, they'd be just bodies, and shirts of different colour merged together. Taeyong put the thought locked away in a safe place–a time capsule in his heart, and later–after ten or more years, he'd open again, and maybe they'll be the same. Just breathing the same air, it was enough for him.


	5. falling in with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> clarifying some things about yumark's drama, but not quite.

Mark must've sounded broken, because Jongin said he was driving, right then, to their dorms. No night of excessive soju or late hour practice was going to take it out of his head. And Yuta was right there, Mark could see his lips moving occasionally, saying something that he couldn't register anymore. 

  
.  
  


**_4 MONTHS PRIOR_ **

"Sometimes I just wanna cry, you know." Yuta lied close to him, sides brushing up against each other. It was just one of the nights when they just lay back, doing nothing in particular. Mark didn't quite expect him to be so open, since he was just kinda withdrawn in general. Well, he didn't blame him at all, Mark probably would've gone years without talking if he was to crash in a foreign country with no clue about his future or whatsoever. Guess he could chalk that up as a plausible reason to always having a soft spot for Yuta.

Mark pushed closer. If Yuta needed to open up, Mark was more than happy to be there for him. "You…" Mark searched for words that would be appropriate for situations like this. But he was too inexperienced, and the words hung in his mouth. "You don't have to hold back then." 

"I guess I was always sensitive." Yuta shrugged, head lowered in an attempt to cover his watery vision. Mark's throat choked up, he couldn't feel what he was feeling, but he sure as hell was sharing the hurt. He didn't have a clue why. "Sorry." 

"Hyung." Mark was probably too dazed, still hurt. He was too inexperienced to hide. Yuta probably turned to face him, and under the wisps of his straightened and styled hair, he saw Mark. Mark was too open, too raw for him to handle, and his feelings too much laid out, naked. 

Like a child, Yuta mirrored him. Fingers, without a particular reason, stroked his skin. And the pad of his thumb that brushed around the corner of his moistened lashes, let his untold tears find a place on the backside of Yuta's calloused palms. "Don't cry," Yuta prodded, a bit taken aback. No one ever cried for him. _Who the hell was Mark to let that change?_

Mark thought of his scribbled nothings of 3 am, to crunch out some long ass hangul or occasional japanese that would fit the situation. Except it was a blur. He didn't find words. At least words that would filter out his unprocessed emotions gushing out without prior notice. "Let me get hurt." His lips made out. "Me but not you. It's okay, at least...not hurt….anymore." He barely registered if he was speaking sense, but he hoped Yuta understood him. " _Not you_." He made it clearer. 

But Yuta was too far gone. Too far asphyxiated to speak clearly. They were close, but Yuta–or he hadn't really noticed who–pulled closer, and closer than before. _Just closer_. Yuta had always been in need of warmth, of excessive attention that would momentarily take away his thoughts of home. He did feel happy sometimes, sometimes home was the last thing on his mind. But as soon as the trivial things were pushed down—like a routine, his brain categorized everything "not home" as trivial—it was back again. And multiplied tenfold. Yuta couldn't take nights like that. Thinking of home only made him weaker, more fragile and vulnerable in any nights of Seoul that knew nothing of a runaway japanese lad. No Seoul kid ever expressed their concern for him, except everyone in nct, and he was glad. He would take every crumb of home that he could find in the foreign streets, and he was glad it was them. He found home in them. But the empty space never left, it just turned off, like a dormant volcano. 

Then there was Mark. 

At one point, Mark was too close, only Yuta closer. It was too fast, but heads too clouded to think rationally. Mark's lips found the crease of his ears, and Yuta was shivering. Too much warmth, more than he asked for. But he couldn't push away. The more he received, more greedily he chased the source, and he pulled in Mark. Mark settled on between his thighs, body small enough to fit in Yuta's. He never had to worry about security after being an idol, but right now, it was the only thing in his mind. In a good way. 

"Hyung. _Yuta hyung_." Mark whispered shakily, head up in the clouds to think of anything else other than the man holding him. 

"Mmn." Yuta's hands roamed around his sides, dipping down the creases of his shirt, and sucking in every corner that breathed warmth. And adding to that, Mark's head was flitted in his neck, saying something incoherent, Yuta could only focus on his breath dancing along the lines of his collarbone. 

He reminded too much of home. The warmth that he gave, unconditionally, the safe haven that he provided without a question, without a hint of doubt drove him crazy. And it was only him. _Only him that held Mark this close._

"I've thought about this." Mark said. " _You and me_." And he refused to explain further, letting Yuta decide. 

"Us." Yuta caught on fast or he expected it to be that way, it gave immense pleasure to think of an _"us"._

* * *

The next day Mark found himself awake alone on the couch. Yesterday night came flooding in his head, as it played out, slowly falling into a chronological order. They were talking, and maybe crossed some boundaries– _boundaries?_ but then, what? Was he to act like nothing happened, or should he be pushy and ask Yuta about being closer to him—okay no, fuck. Mark sighed. There was no way Mark would just straight up bring up the conversation. It would be awkward. 

His phone buzzed, _Taeyong hyung._ Ah, didn't they have practice? Mark curses internally, _fuck_. He was running at record speed towards the practice room, already two hours late, but that's barely what he cared for. 

Yuta didn't wake him up. 

* * *

"You could've just not come you know," Johnny wrapped an arm around him, Mark may or may not have extra practice hours because he was late. He was boiling inside but that's an understatement. He was literally _vaporizing_ , because Yuta seemed unfazed. Was he just drunk, or maybe he has a dissociative identity disorder, or oh shit even worse, selective memory loss—but no, he was just mad. 

Yuta didn't spare a second glance towards him when he went into formation, and it was definitely intentional considering Mark's right there, in front of him. There was no way he didn't see him. 

"Hey." He called, not sure what he was going to say. " _Hey,_ " Yuta didn't seem to hear him. 

"Either you don't come, or don't talk. Choose one." Their choreographer tapped on his shoulders. Mark flushed, for more than one reason. 

"S-sorry."

* * *

It wasn't until he was done with his extra hours of practice, that he could get him alone. He had no idea why Yuta was right there, with him, when everyone just left. And he was the one avoiding him all through the day as if he was a spider or something. 

"Uhm." Mark tried to make sense. "You can go, you know." 

"Who told you I'm waiting up for you?" Yuta scoffed, laying back against the mirrors. Mark flushed, bright red, from embarrassment, anger, hurt, he didn't know how to name them.

"Yeah, okay. Sorry." 

And he thought it was over, maybe Yuta would leave him alone, but a pair of arms around his waist proved him wrong. Yuta pulled up close, Mark's back hitting his chest, and he made a hum of protest. 

"Hey." 

"Hey yourself." He snapped. "Let go, hyung." 

Yuta slipped his head on his neck, his breath coming out in puffs. "No. Mark, I—" 

"Hyung you acted like I don't exist." Mark's throat felt heavy. "It would've been fine if you had just yelled at me. I wouldn't have minded. We're grown ups, and I should've understood." Mark clawed on Yuta's fingers. "But it hurt you know, to think that there's an _us,_ when you didn't think that way at all." 

" _No_!" Yuta growled near his ears, too pushy for Mark. "I—I don't know how to say things, Mark, I'm…I don't know." 

Mark's heart stuttered. _There was never an us._ "Hyung you don't have to justify. It's alright, you don't have to force yourself into saying things you don't wanna." 

"That's not fucking it, okay!?" Yuta's arms tightened around his waist, and it was maybe starting to suffocate a little. "Just let me think this through." 

"I've thought all night about this. About how I should act when I'm with you." Mark was about to say something, but Yuta didn't give a chance. "I was so scared, I'm just so scared, I felt like I was dying yesterday. You know? When I was holding you, all I thought about was," He scraped his lips, and a thousand ways of backing out were clouding his head. But then he couldn't stop it. "...was... _k-kissing you_." He let the words sink in. For both. It was a first for him too, to hear his feelings in words right out of his own mouth. 

"I was scared. _Hell,_ I was terrified. I wanted to stop everything." He breathed irregularly, holding him tighter. "I didn't know how to face you, I didn't know what I'd say to you. I didn't know what you'll think of me." Mark wasn't even looking at the mirror anymore to know Yuta's heart. It was out there, in the open, for him. "All I could think was, maybe you know, or come to know about _these,_ " He emphasized. "Disgusting feelings, maybe you'd question my audacity, I was too scared to lose you. To lose whatever friendship I've built all this time. I'm too scared, Minhyung." 

Mark turned around, and fell into him. Holding him tighter, to the point it hurt. "Fuck you." 

Yuta fell silent, not sure how to act, not sure if Mark was mad, or he was okay with him harboring these feelings, he didn't know. He just stayed still, frozen, hands not hugging him back. 

" _Hey_ ," Mark scoffed. "First, you confess like one of your shoujo manga moments, and now you're not even hugging me?" 

Yuta had his emotions messed up, Mark was strutting in his heart, without a question or warning, and he wasn't really that strong of a man to refuse his first love. His trembling hands enfold around him, like a baby, he clung onto him. It all happened too fast, them talking just yesterday, Yuta avoiding him, and confessing outta nowhere, and to his surprise, Mark accepted them without a second thought. It was crazy. 

"That's good." Mark nuzzled on his chest, "For a second I thought you were just playing around." 

"No way." Yuta laughed, "Like fuck, I could kiss you right now. But oh,obviously, consent. I'm not going to force you or anything." 

"Jesus, shut up hyung." Mark, clearly embarrassed, buried his face in the Yuta-scented shirt. "This whole time, I thought I messed up or something, I had no idea what was going on in your head. But you were worried, for no fucking reason at all. _Typical_." 

" _Oh?_ " Yuta rocked his body, splayed out on the wooden floor, very satisfied albeit the floor not being very comfortable. "So what would _you_ have done, Mr. Lee?" 

Mark giggled on his neck, and it kind of tickled. "I would've straight up kissed you. _Bam_." 

Yuta burst into a fit. "What the fuck is that? _Bam?_ You wanna _bam_ and kiss me? My love, it's not a live action movie, we don't have our sfx narrated." 

Mark hit him on his chest playfully, red from his own mouth blabbering without a filter. He was surprised honestly, at himself, for saying things that he wouldn't have said earlier. Does love make you go absolutely crazy? Okay _yes, jesus, fuck_ , the way Yuta was literally staring at him right now, _quite shamelessly_ , it wasn't a miracle how he didn't think twice before speaking. 

"I...I haven't…." Mark scrunched up his nose. Maybe he shouldn't say this? With the unhealthy amount of fanfictions he read online it should be okay, right? _Right?_ But _fuuuck,_ Yuta's lips were so full, and plump, and pink and just absolutely _fucking perfect,_ he didn't remember any of the stories describe that. Or any of the stories that–very graphically–did _not_ , describe the slight peachiness, or the tender skin, or the taste of the lip gloss that he used, (not that he knew of it, but he mayhaps used Yuta's lip gloss mustering up an excuse like he didn't bring his, which is utterly impossible since Mark had his things dumped in his bag. there's no way he'd forget his.) 

"You haven't? Haven't….?" Yuta prodded, after Mark stayed quiet for a while, eyes focused on his lips. 

"O-oh, I…" Mark rummaged his head. So in conclusion, no one behind those neatly written fanfictions–that might sometimes be frighteningly real–actually kissed Yuta Nakamoto. They didn't know his lips, nor the owner. There's gotta be something they missed, something that Mark knew _more_ than them. "I haven't….kissed anyone. Till now." 

Silence. The words were heavier than he thought, and now his whole body was fuzzy. Maybe it was _not_ a good idea after all. He was so lost in what he could've said instead of those exact words, or could've done to prove that he was kinda super-experienced (he was not) and maybe not feel embarrassed, he missed Yuta, who was blushing till the tip of his ears. 

"S-so," Yuta stuttered. "Yo-you've never kissed a-anyone, huh?" 

Mark nodded, no point in lying after he ruined his chances, by his own hands. 

"O-oh." 

And? _And?_ Mark was dying in his head. _Oh_ ? A simple _oh?_ What does even _"oh"_ meant? Like how was he supposed to interpret an _oh?_ "So..uhm..like...you don't...wanna….uuuhhh like….don't wanna k-kiss me anymore?" 

Fuck, he was going to pass out. 

Yuta moved faster than his heart, scrambling towards him, hands on his knees and squeezing carefully. "Not kiss you? The fuck you mean? If anything, _I wanna kiss you, right here, right now, senseless._ " 

Okay, Mark was indeed passing out. It was dramatic, how things were playing out, absolutely terribly and very much cliché, it cringed him to the core. But _fuck_ , he loved it. He definitely loved the words dripping down Yuta's tongue. _Yuta's tongue. Fuuuuuck._

"So you know, I haven't kissed anyone." Mark glanced at him, measuring the aftermath of his words. He gurgled out, shifting his eyes from Yuta's nose to Yuta's lips then again quickly looking away, possibly creeped out by Yuta's suggestive smile. "Oh right, shit, never kissed except maybe in middle school my lips smacked with a girl I didn't even know, and she made me drop out for three weeks." He shivered, remembering the incident. " _Very traumatic_." 

Yuta snapped his lips close. _Absolutely do not laugh._ "Uhhh so you're not re-thinking to kiss me are you?" 

"What? _No_ !" Mark said. " _You_ aren't having second thoughts, are you?" 

Yuta laughed, it was hot and Mark was panicking for finding it hot, he was going insane. Then Yuta spoke. "Well," He tapped on his thighs. "Sit on my lap and I'll illustrate. Clarify your confusions. Come." He motioned. " _Come to me_."

Mark obliged, though embarrassed to the point he'd possibly his pants if Yuta dared to ask anything obscene. He scuttled his way, and situated himself on Yuta's firm thighs, and had a sudden,striking, enlightening moment of epiphany. "They don't know you like this." It was low but Yuta grabbed the pieces. 

"What? _Who_ doesn't know _what_?" 

_Mission abort._

"Hey," Yuta pressed. "Who doesn't know _what_ , Mark?" 

_"I don't know?"_ Mark whined. "Can you let it go?? Pleaseee hyuuuung~" He tugged the hem of the older's shirt, putting his best efforts to act cute, and yeah, it was working. _Definitely_. The way Yuta was squirming under him, it didn't take a genius. 

"Fine. Shut up." Yuta snapped. "Now close your eyes." 

Mark faltered. _Close your eyes?_ Then? "Mark, _baby_ , just stop your head for once. You'll be surprised to find just how much you can do when it stops talking." Mark may or may not have screamed internally at the _baby_ , he always had a thing for Yuta's lower, and deeper voice (which didn't really occur often), and now imagine him calling Mark _baby_ in _that_ voice. Mind blowing. Multiply that fifty times and yes, Mark short curcuited. 

He closed his eyes. 

To say that his world stopped spinning would be an understandment, and too dull to explain what he _actually_ felt. He felt butterflies, and consequently them bursting into fireworks (very vivid _and_ weird, but that's how his brain worked), and his whole body was overly sensitive, even through his hoodie. Yuta touched the back of his neck, and he thought his neck would burn and he'd die. His big hands were roaming all over his back, and maybe grabbed his ass to pull him closer, and smash their lips. Let's not add how it was his first kiss, and he was doing nothing, really, except follow Yuta, and feverishly moving his lips along his. Just like he knew, Yuta's lip gloss was _sweet,_ and sweeter when Yuta kissed it on his lips. Yuta's taste was fucking intoxicating. 

"Hy-hyung," He stuttered, eyes blown out, head empty to think rationally. "Hyung, Yuta hyung, I—" 

"Shh." Yuta caught his bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a guttural moan from the latter. "Don't say anything. Talking can wait. Right now, just focus on kissing me." 

Mark was brain fucked from how Yuta was super good at kissing, using tongue whenever he needed it deeper, and kissing open mouthed, and sloppy when he needed to keep his voice down. But his first kiss, Mark believed, couldn't have been any better. 

* * *

  
  


**_BACK TO PRESENT_ **

He switched off his phone, annoyed from too many people calling way too many times. Yeah, they were concerned, and it kinda made him guilty, but he needed to stay alone. He ignored the countless raps on the door, clearly pointing out that he needed some alive time. It has been half an hour, and no one wasn't really bothering him anymore. 

But then, a firmer tap on the door startled him to sense. 

_Once._

Mark stayed quiet. Whoever it was, they'd leave as soon as they realise that he wasn't really talking. 

_Twice._

_Thrice._

Okay so whoever the fuck it was outside that door had no brain since they continue with the annoying knocks getting harder each time. 

"Can you leave? I don't wanna talk right now." Mark hoarsed out. The knocking stopped. Just when Mark was about to relax thinking the other person had left, another knock jarred him. _Who the fu—_

" _Mark?_ " 

Oh fuck. Shit. It wasn't Yuta, nor Taeyong, nor Johnny, and most definitely not Hyuck. Mark obviously knew his honey-like voice but honestly, he was the last person he expected to actually come to him. When Jongin said that he was driving, he didn't actually believe that Jongin would come to him, like he was busy with his own schedules and practices. It didn't make sense why he would come to him throwing everything behind. 

"Hyung." 

"Open up, _please_ ." He begged, almost too pleading. "Just once, please. If you don't want me here, it's okay. Just let me see you for once. Please. _Please."_

Mark couldn't say _no_ to _that._ Well, obviously. 

With silent steps, he trotted towards the door, and opened up, slowly–careful to not make any unnecessary noise. And there he was, face pale, and almost too concerned for god knew why. 

" _Hyung_." 

Jongin invaded, pulling him into a hug and closed the door behind them. They stood there, in the doorway, none too brave enough to say anything. Mark had a lump in his throat and it was suffocating him. No matter how much he gulped down his own spit, it stayed there, threading to explode. 

" _Love_?" 

_Oh hell, no. Not that._ It was harder for him to hold back when Jongin was this sweet. 

"Don't say anything if you don't want to, okay? You being here, is enough. So, Minhyung," Jongin smiled, stealing a chaste kiss. "Hold on to me. And cry on me if it hurts too much. I won't ask you. But just know, I'm here for you whenever you need me."

Mark gurgled, breaking apart. Jongin indeed, was unfair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh now im torn ㅠㅠ but things will get better. and mark will have his deserved closure. promise <3


	6. out of mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a whole lot of kaimark in this one <3 kinda written in mark's pov, so it's a lot of jongin in here. but in later chapters, it'll be jongin's head on display and we'll see a lot of mark running around hehehehe :>
> 
> also, i LOVE yuta nakamoto so please, whatever happens here is just for the sake of the storyline. nothing more.

Jongin kissed his lips, Mark breaking down in fireworks again, but this time it hurt, the warmth burnt through his bones. To think that Yuta wasn't there anymore, but it was Jongin who was holding him in place, it was happening too fast. Sometimes he just wondered if things would've been different. If only they hadn't run from a possibility of them becoming an " _ us _ ", maybe, things would've turned out different. Maybe Mark would've still woken up to his morning kisses.

"I….hyung." He was pressed close to Jongin, the older's body caging him as if that's where he was supposed to be, since the beginning.  _ Then what about Yuta?  _ The fleeting thought clogged his mind like some sort of adhesive and he couldn't shake it off. 

"Don't have to speak, love." Jongin soothed, breath fanning against his neck. "You don't have to. I'm here. I'm right here, holding you and I'm not going anywhere." 

And it felt so wrong in his head. Jongin, right here, was throwing away his schedule just to see him, because  _ he sounded _ hurt. There was Yuta, who visibly saw him getting through a phase, but did nothing of help. He only fuelled the turmoil. And here,  _ he _ –in Jongin's arms–was thinking of Yuta, yet. A feeling of self-loathing overwhelmed him.

"Stop thinking." Jongin blurted when Mark's blinked profusely, fluttering throughout the room. "I can tell whatever's going through that head of yours, and it's not good." Jongin pinpointed, shrugging when Mark looked at him like some kind of god. "I came here for a reason. So just stop thinking, okay?" 

Mark tried, _really_. But apparently, it really wasn't working. The more he tried, the stronger they hit him. They were vivid in his head, and, "Okay fuck, this isn't working. Sorry, hyung, but—" 

And Jongin kissed him. Mark thought at least, but no. Jongin inched unimaginably closer, and if he leaned even a single centimeter, he _would be_ kissing him. But Jongin stopped there, with no intention of pushing forward. It was as if he was intentionally holding back, giving him time, if he was okay with kissing him. Even though they had some kind of an intimate exchange in Superm, things weren't that simple. Both of them knew that. 

In Superm, they were too instinct driven. Mark had no time to think and nor did Jongin. Jongin offered, and  Mark didn't find it in his heart to refuse his hyung—someone he had admired for a long time. But now, back in nct, things were different. He had enough time to think things over, about his relationship with Jongin and…. _Yuta_. Yuta was right there, maybe two rooms away from his, and breathing the same air. He was weak when it came to the both of them. It was crazy. 

Jongin just laid there, lips apart from Mark's own pair, and closed his eyes. It was as if, Mark was breathing him. Jongin's mint toothpaste played with his head, added to that his full lips, and every single feature that made him so...so ethereal. So breathtakingly gorgeous. 

" _Minhyung_ ," Jongin smiled, and it almost made him cry, the way Jongin looked at him like he was the most precious person to him, it seemed unfair to him.

Then again, Jongin told him not to think too much. "Hyung," he uttered, a low whisper. But he couldn't stop thinking. So he covered the distance between them, pressing his lips against Jongin's in a light kiss. 

Jongin already had his eyes closed, and Mark saw his face morph into one of ecstatic euphoria, as if finally getting what he had longed for years. His own eyes shut close as the older pressed deeper, but careful to be not too forceful. It made him weak in the knees, how Jongin kissed him. Sometimes sucking on his bottom lip lightly, but never once using teeth and soon, Mark was gasping for air. He pulled away for a second before pushing back in again, over and over again, before their kisses turned sloppy, open mouthed, and maybe a little lust-driven. 

Mark had the dancer's body press close to him, and he could feel him pressing–hard–against his thigh. Jongin seemed to have sensed it, because he tore away the next second, moving away his lower body. 

"Hyung," Mark slurred, voice heavy from feeling too much in too less of time. "I-I can h-help—" he offered, but Jongin shook his head vigorously. Mark may or may not have been a bit offended. "You don't want me—"

Jongin didn't let him finish before he shut him up, kissing again, deeply. "It's not that I don't want to.  _ Obviously I want to.  _ Fuck _ , I'm dying to touch you,  _ to let  _ you _ touch me," Mark moaned–almost–from how crazy he sounded, sex dripping from each of his hangeul syllable. "But tonight, it's not about me." 

"Tonight," Jongin chipped on his lips, mulling over a thought. "Tonight…..will you let me touch you?" He said finally. "Only if you want that is, I won't touch you without your consent, no, I'm not that—" 

"Yeah." Mark finished for him. Mind too hazy to think of a better response. But it did the job, because Jongin looked like he was going to burst from how brightly he smiled. 

" _Yeah_?" 

Mark nodded in confirmation. 

Then in successive tries, Jongin made himself comfortable between Mark's thighs, now spread around his own body. Mark's head completely stopped working, but he wasn't sure if that's a good or a bad thing. For one, he wasn't thinking of Yuta anymore, but second, his head was exploding from containing so much of Jongin in one day. 

Jongin split his thighs even further, and for a second Mark was glad that Taeyong made him do all that stretching before their dance practices. Jongin leaned in too close, the outline of his face more prominent than ever. "I'm going to touch you, okay? Push me away anytime you feel you don't want this." Jongin said once again, Mark wanted to whine from how concerned Jongin was and they weren't even doing anything  _ that  _ intimate yet.  _ Yet. _

The older ran his chapped lips over Mark's exposed neck, and he shivered from the effect. His lips were burning on Mark's cool skin, kissing their way down, careful not to leave any marks. 

Jongin pressed his mouth over his clothed chest, inhaling deeply. Suddenly, Mark felt self conscious. He wasn't really a perfume guy, and it might or might not be what Jongin preferred. On the contrary, Jongin had a dazed expression that looked way too sinful to be shown so blatantly. "You smell so good," Jongin voiced out his words. " _ Fuck _ ." Okay maybe Mark was not surviving the whole scenario, but yeah, he's trying to. 

"Can I?" Jongin asked, sweetly, pulling on the lining of his shirt. Mark nodded, too embarrassed to say anything. Jongin chuckled, and it echoed in his ears. Even his laugh was gorgeous. Jongin pulled off the piece of cloth with ease–and with a little help from the boy himself. And Mark was completely gone now, blushing till the red hue creeped down his neck, and his ear too. Jongin kissed his collarbone, and moved down, worshipping each and every part of him. Mark shuddered in places where it felt a little too good, and it made Jongin pay extra attention to that place. Though Mark would never vocally admit it, Jongin's lips felt fucking good around his nipples, and for fuck's sake it sounded embarrassing even if he worded it out in his head. He never had the slightest thought that one day, he'd have his nipples sucked on, _by a man_ , and oh, who were we kidding, by Kim Jongin aka _Kai_ at that, and he wanted to laugh hysterically from how absolutely outrageous that sounded. 

Before Mark could decipher the whole situation of Jongin worshipping his body, the latter's teeth were clinking down on his zipper. Jongin looked up, through hooded eyes, and if Mark didn't say that right then, he looked like the most beautiful man ever, he'd definitely be lying. 

"Uh-uh.. hyung, tha-that's..I..?" He was at a loss for words, fumbling on the sheets, trying to grab onto something for safety but only grabbing onto Jongin's broad shoulders in the end. Jongin seemed to get a hint, and startled, moved away quickly. 

"I...I'm sorry." He fumbled. "I might've been too carried away, I'm….ah shit, I'm so sorry." 

At that moment, Mark let his worries drain out of his system, because the man in front of him, deserved everything. Without any word of protest, he entwined their fingers–surprising Jongin again–and guided them to his pants. If Jongin could do that much for him, it was only natural that he returned it. "Hyung." Mark groaned, Jongin's palm now pressing down on his pants, right over his groin. " _Touch me_." 

Jongin gulped visibly, his brown eyes darkening. "You sure?" 

Mark laughed nervously. "Positive." 

"Okay." 

Jongin went back to his ministrations. Ever so slowly, as if intentionally teasing him, he pulled down the zipper with his teeth, and chucked away his pants somewhere in the room. Not that he cared. Not when Jongin was literally breathing on his clothed dick, and _fuck_ , Mark was going to die—sorry, have the best orgasm in his life. Mark never had given or received any sort of handjobs or blowjobs or anything remotely sexual, and Jongin was straight up mouthing his dick, he didn't know how long he could hold in. He might as well come untouched if Jongin stared at him for too long. 

" _Fuck_ ," Mark cussed under his breath, in English. "Hyung, that feels _so_ good." Jongin squirmed, but composed himself, humming a little–sending vibrations down his spine. Maybe it was just his imagination, but him speaking English seemed to affect the older male more than Mark had expected. But he might be wrong. 

"Can I take it off?"

It was frustrating, honestly. How Jongin kept asking at every point if it was okay, and maybe it was a good thing, but right now, Mark wished to be manhandled. Without a question.

"Don't ask. Please," Mark replied, face behind his palms, peeking just a little. "Just touch me, hyung. Do whatever you want to me." Again in English and  _ yes indeed _ , it  _ did _ have an effect on Jongin. 

"You're  _ so  _ gorgeous,  _ god, _ " Jongin pulled off the thin piece of fabric separating skin-to-skin contact, and it joined his pants on the floor. The cool air of the room on his naked skin felt real. And for the first time, he felt vulnerable. Jongin was pushing all his buttons, taking him apart slowly, and giving him time to push him away. But right now, when he was lying completely naked in front of him, still fully clothed, he felt exposed.  _ Scared.  _ Yes, he did chalked it out in his head, and maybe the idea of it sounded tempting. But the real thing, it was obviously starkly different and Mark didn't trust himself to hold out.

Unknowingly, his hands scurried hastily to cover his lower body. The earlier lust, love, whatever, was starting to ebb away. And he expected a very furious Jongin to snap at him. 

What he did not expect was Jongin kissing his thighs, as lovingly as ever, and then pulling up the covers over him. 

"It's okay." He smiled. "It's okay, it's perfectly okay." And he pulled him close, and Mark didn't feel the same fear striking him again. It felt as if Jongin was accepting all of him, without a question, without doubt, it didn't seem real anymore.

"Hyung, I'm—" Mark started thinking of the ways he could pass a sincere apology. Jongin shushed him by pressing a digit over his lips. "Shh. I'm not mad or anything if you're thinking that." He kissed him over his finger. "Yes maybe mad at myself for pushing too far, and slightly–uhhh, okay,  _ really  _ happy that you trust me enough to stop me." 

Mark was gaping at him. Can he get anymore perfect? How could he stay so...so...calm right after Mark literally pushed him away? 

"I l-like you," It came naturally to him, and the words just spilled out. "So much. I mean it, hyung. I really,  _ really  _ like you." He didn't miss the slight reddish hue on Jongin's honey skin, and the look of ecstasy that smeared all over his features. 

"Mmn." He whispered, lingering close. "I like you too, Minhyung.  _ Very much _ ." 

And Mark meant _every_ word, because at the end of the night, he wasn't thinking of Yuta anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehehehehe so umm my head is blank and i wonder if ill be able to write a decent intimate scene?? like my i have it all working out in my head, but when it comes to writing, my fingers fail me :]


End file.
